Fire that heals soul
Lucy Kgweetsi | Monday December 8, 2025 06:00
In an interview with Arts & Culture, she explained the spark behind the concept, saying, “I really wanted something that would relate to pain that could also be washed away. That’s why the song has the word Pula in it.”
For her, fire, or molelo, became the perfect metaphor for the world’s collective heaviness, struggle, loss, bitterness and the silent hurts that people often carry. Water, in turn, became its antidote. The song’s plea for rain is symbolic, a request for cleansing rather than destruction.
Amos describes the song’s character as one that mirrors raw emotion. “It carries the weight of prayers whispered in vulnerable moments, the fatigue of trying again after failing, and the courage that begins to grow as hope returns,” she explained.
That emotional layering is what guided her in the studio, especially in the section she says flowed with the least resistance. The part that says ‘a o itse botlhoko bo sa lete o tshele’. I said it continuously to grow the intensity of the question.” She adds.
One of the most challenging elements to refine was the drum arrangement. She knew immediately that she did not want the artificial sharpness of digital recording.
She mentioned that she wanted a drum that felt ‘alive’ something closer to a cultural heartbeat, earthy, spiritual, and unfiltered. That search extended the process, especially since she felt the track needed percussion that sounded organic rather than manufactured. Working alongside producer and instrumentalist Maatla Thapalalo shaped the song’s final form in meaningful ways.
Amos speaks highly of his musical intuition and understanding of her voice, admitting that even the unusual sounds she explored in the studio did not deter him. “Our shared connection to the song intensified the process. We felt the song was bigger than both of us,” she recalls.
That sense of magnitude brought unexpected moments during recording. The emotional toll of the song sometimes overwhelmed her, forcing pause to recover before returning to the microphone.
While she rested, Thapalalo continued shaping the arrangement, giving her space to regain the energy required for such a spiritually heavy performance. One turning point came toward the end of the creation process, when an idea for a rhythm shift emerged.
“The song briefly transforms, drums quicken, the mood lifts, and the imagery of pouring rain becomes vivid. This was the moment I knew the song was complete, a transition from struggle to relief,” she said.
Although she acknowledges that her creative journey depends partly on how listeners receive the music, her hope is clear. She wants Molelo to initiate conversations about healing, purpose and spiritual endurance.
The early response, she says, has been encouraging, with many listeners describing a sense of peace after hearing it.
Ultimately, Amos hopes Molelo stands as a work of healing and prayer within her growing catalogue, an offering shaped by personal hardship but meant for anyone navigating their own fire.